Who's the Father?
by Roxi Angel Black
Summary: Harry's fallen ill. Or that what Hermione thought. A visit by Madam Pomphrey shows that isn't quite the case. Harry's pregnant. But who's the father of Harry's unborn child? Insinuated Slash between Harry and another male(s). Mpreg. Rated M for mature content. If you don't agree with homosexuality, please don't read this. It's a male/male love story. Also, there is twincest.


Chapter One

"Harry, I've fire-called Madam Promphrey. She's on her way." Hermione said quietly as she peeked into Harry's room. He just groaned and covered his head. Sure, he couldn't keep anything down, but he felt fine.

"I'm fine." he grumbled, not wanting his old school nurse to see the state he let his flat get into. There were clothes littering his bedroom floor, his trash cans needed emptying, and there was a mountain of dishes in the kitchen.

"Harry James Potter, don't you dare. You've been sick a week. You're getting this check-up." Hermione said sternly.

"Fine... Get Kreacher to clean up a bit. I usually don't let it get this bad." he sighed, feeling defeated. "I've just been really tired after work lately."

"You've been sick." Hermione chided, as she tidied his bedroom with her wand. "Honestly, Harry."

"I don't feel sick. I feel tired, but normal." Harry protested.

"You've not been able to hold anything down. I don't call that normal." she sniffed and walked out of his room, "I'll be right back in a minute."

Harry sighed and sat up in his bed. He spelled a pair of pajamas on him. He did not plan his day off to include people coming into his messy flat. He summoned Kreacher from Grimmauld Place, the house elf's preferred living area, and gave him instructions to clean up the kitchen and empty the trash. Then, he leaned against his headboard and waited for Madam Pomphrey to arrive.

Kreacher frowned, studying Harry silently for a moment. "Is Master Potter feeling alright?" He could see bags under his master's duller than usual eyes and his master looked skinnier than the last time Kreacher had cooked for him. Further, he was sure that the master needed a shower and shave as well. His master didn't look well. Yet there was something there the elf couldn't identify that he felt he should have. It felt vaguely familiar.

"Just tired." Harry smiled weakly. "Thank you, Kreacher." the old house elf bowed, still perplexed, and then left to do as he was told.

About an hour later Harry was woken up gently by Hermione. Her hair had been pulled back into a messy bun and she looked worried. She smiled lightly when he looked at her.

"Sorry, 'Mione. I didn't mean to fall asleep." Harry yawned.

"You said you've been tired." she shrugged. "Madam Pomphrey's here."

"Alright. How's the flat look?" Harry wondered.

"Kreacher and I got it spotless just in time." Hermione said with a smile.

"You didn't have to do that 'Mione." Harry shook his head. She just shrugged as she went to let Madam Pomphrey into Harry's bedroom.

"Hello Poppy." Harry grinned brightly.

"Miss Granger here tells me that you have been sick a week." Madam Pomphrey said as a way of greeting.

Harry shrugged. "I don't feel sick. I've had vomiting and tiredness. Otherwise I feel normal."

"Well I'll do a scan and check, just in case." the nurse smiled, having expected Harry to say he was fine. She performed the scan with precision born from years of flawless practice. She blinked at the results before shooing a disgruntled Hermione out of the room. When she and Harry were alone, she looked back at him with an unreadable expression.

"Harry, I must ask you a very personal question." she said seriously.

Harry nodded slowly, looking confused and slightly worried. "Alright."

"When was the last time you sexual relations with a man?"

Harry blinked in surprise. "What? Why?"

"You're pregnant, Harry." Madam Pomphrey knew Harry wasn't dating at the moment. Poor dear would've made top news, no matter how hard he tried to keep it secret. Especially after the fiasco he had to deal with when he and the young Weasley girl had broken up last year.

"I'm... wait how? I'm a man!" Harry said, a blush tainting his cheeks.

"You're also a wizard. Wizards can carry children, too, if their magic is strong enough." Madam Pomphrey explained gently. "Do you have a house elf? I need to give you a list of things to buy for prenatal care."

Harry sat there just gaping at her in shock. His mind was reeling. He was pregnant. He wanted a family so bad, but had given the thought up when he'd realized he was gay.

But he was pregnant.

"Potter?" Madam Pomphrey brought him back to his senses.

"Oh, right. Sorry. Kreacher." he summoned the elf and let Pomphrey handle the instructions as he thought of the only possible day he could have gotten pregnant.

His birthday party had been a smashing success. He was 21 years old and having the time of his life. He had drinks, loud music, and he was surrounded by his friends. The twins had planned it beautifully.

It was fuzzy, but Harry remembered cornering one of the twins twice in the night, and shagging him. Once in the guest bedroom and then again in the bathroom. The problem now was: which one was it? Which one of the Weasley twins was the father to Harry's child?

"It's been three months, Georgie. I don't think Harry's going to say anything." Fred looked sad as he watched George count the money in the register.

"I know, Freddie. I was hoping he would too. He's the only one that could properly tell us apart before I lost my ear. And..." George trailed off. The twins had wanted Harry a long time. Ever since his birthday party, when he shagged them both, they were hoping that he would come to them and want to be with them. Both of them.

It was both of them or neither of them. They wouldn't have it any other way. They had tried that before and it just didn't work. They would argue, and it would come between them, and they never wanted that to happen again. Arguing was something they didn't like to do. They were too close, and arguing hurt.

The bell on the shop door dinged, pulling them each out of their own thoughts.

"Store's closed." George called to the unseen newcomer.

"Even for the anonymous partner?" A voice called back to him. Fred's and George's faces lit up.

"You don't think...?" George whispered.

"Never say never, eh, Georgie?" Fred grinned before calling out, "Harry! Haven't seen you in a while, mate! You know you're always welcome here!"

Harry laughed as he made his way to the counter. "Sorry, I've been... well, I'll tell you in a minute." he paused, "Um, can we talk upstairs?"

"Of course. Georgie's making dinner tonight; we can talk as he cooks." Fred looked close at Harry. "Something's off about you, mate."

George looked up from counting and frowned, studying Harry. "Are you alright, Harry?"

Harry blushed and nodded. "Yeah, I'm great." Even missing an ear, George heard the nervousness in Harry's voice.

"Relax, mate." George said.

"We are..." Fred started.

"Always here..." George smiled.

"For you." They finished together. George wrote some figures down in their business ledger.

"Alright. Now that that's taken care of, let's get upstairs." George gently pushed Fred toward the stairs. Harry smiled, watching their closeness. He really hoped they would take the news well. He was one of the few people who knew of their relationship, although they'd not told him. He didn't want to ruin anything.

They all went into the kitchen. Fred and Harry sat down at the table while George started preparing something for them all to eat. After dinner was in the oven he sat at the table with them.

"So, Harry." George started.

"What's going on?" Fred asked.

Harry looked down at his hands nervously. "First, thanks for the birthday party. It was beyond excellent." Harry knew he was stalling.

"Um, that night..." he paused, not meeting their eyes, "Usually I can tell you guys apart... but my memories are really fuzzy and I... I know I shagged one of you... twice... but I'm not sure who, and now I'm bloody pregnant... and I don't want to come between you guys... and..."

Fred covered Harry's mouth. He and George stared at Harry in shocked silence. Harry looked up at them, pleading them with his eyes to say something.

"Blimey..." George breathed.

"You know about us?" Fred asked, not removing his hand. Guilt was heavy in Harry's eyes as he nodded.

"Forget about that Freddie... We're going to be fathers." George grinned. Fred grinned, too.

"Blimey..." Fred laughed. "This is amazing. But, which one of us?" he looked at George.

"Got Harry pregnant?" George smiled warmly, looking into Fred's eyes. They looked at Harry.

"Does it matter?" they asked him as Fred dropped his hand off of Harry's mouth.

"Not really to me, but the birth certificate can't say both of you, can it?" Harry pointed out, bemused by their reaction. "And, if we can find a legal way to bond before the birth, I'd like that. Don't want other kids picking on him or her later in life for being born out of wedlock."

"We're a package deal, you know, Harry." Fred said seriously.

"I know." Harry blushed. The twins laughed.

"Oh, Harry..." Fred grinned.

"...do you..." George leaned forward.

"...still want to know..." Fred wrapped an arm around George.

"...which one of us..." George leaned into Fred.

"...shagged you senseless?" They grinned at him mischievously.

"For the birth certificate, yes." Harry nodded with a light smile.

"Well..." Fred trailed off.

"First it was me. Guest bedroom." George smiled.

"Then it was me. The bathroom." Fred added.

"If there's only one, put Freddie as the father." George told him.

"If they're twins, oldest as mine, and youngest as Georgie's." Fred nodded.

Harry blinked. "I... wow. Okay, it's a plan."

Fred and George grinned. "Our dear child is going to be the king..."

"...or queen of mischievous deeds."

A/N: I'm debating on whether or not to stop this one here. What do you think?


End file.
